


breathe

by awsten



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Getting Back Together, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Post-Break Up, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awsten/pseuds/awsten
Summary: dan howell has to breathe a lot, because phil lester takes his breath away. but now, dan does too much breathing because phil is no longer with him, unable to take his breath away.





	1. alone

**Author's Note:**

> i started this over two years ago and the writing style really changes as i changed so please stick with me for the first 8,000 words.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dan finds something that begins to pull at what he wanted to leave behind.

b r o k e n

it is all dan hears now, whether he's yelling it at himself or hearing it whispered behind his back in the street. it follows him, sticking to his brain like a piece of gum stuck on your favorite shoes, the ones that you wear everyday.

this time he hears it from his old best friends as they are talking in the bookstore, and dan is hiding behind the bookshelf, the spine of book he thinks about too much digging into his spine. the amazing book is not on fire, one of the last projects he and phil did together.

"it's just absolutely revolting that he left phil on his birthday, his own birthday. now, phil hates his birthday. he hates it, just like he hates him." dan's eyes water a bit as he hear that his old best fried hates him. "louise said she was at the train station where phil and him first met last week, and she saw him on the other side of the platform, standing where the two of them first touched. he's a traitor, pj, and it's sickening."

"i can't believe this is the dan we once knew. sure, dan was never the happiest person with all his anxiety attacks and insecurities, but he was dan. but this person, this person isn't even human. it's a empty shell, an outcast. anyways come on chris, phil just texted me saying he's there." the boy clad in all black waits for the duo to leave the store, then pulls out a book by its spine, walking to the register. he furiously wipes tears from his eyes as he pulls out some money, handing it to the cashier.

"ah, the amazing book is not on fire. my daughter read this once when it first came out. never seen her as happy as the moment she met them. she's not happy much anymore, even her wife can't cheer her up. it's not even the transphobic slurs anymore that get her down, it's the fact the people who saved her life don't interact anymore for some reason." the shopkeeper says as he pulls up the book, trying to find the price. a black wooden door behind him swings open, a girl with dyed blue hair walks out, a sweater the boy and his friend once sold with their fringes on it hanging on her small frame. "oh riley! i was just talking about you!"

her eyes flicker up, a ghost of a smile appearing on her face for a second as she sees the book. then, her eyes fall on the boy buying it. her shoulders go limp as fears well in her eyes.

"d-d-dan? i met you a couple years ago, at summer in the city back when you and phil were calling random people up to do the seven second challenge. you made me write a poem about the person i cared most about. now, i am married to her. thank you for saving my life." the girl says, trembling as her fingers run over the diamond ring on her ring finger. she smiles as dan walks over, wrapping his arms around her.

"hey, don't let anyone bring your down, ever. you are beautiful and there is and never was anything wrong with you. whoever says you have something wrong is an idiot. that girl, tessa if i remember correctly, was one of the sweetest people i have ever met. you are amazing, thank you for being a fan. it is the best feeling to hear that you saved someone's life, especially for me, because i didn't have a best friend for the first eighteen years of my life. i love you for being you, don't forget that okay?" dan says, looking at the girl as she cries into his chest. he feels the question she wants to ask, what happened with phil because it's all anyone asks anymore. "now butterfly, i have to fly but i'll sign something if you want me to and take a photo."

§

dan is a fool, a child. he's a grown man who acts like a child. he can't handle being around other people, afraid he will mess up.

"i ruined my best friend, i destroyed him. i am a monster, i am sickening. i am not worthy of my career and my friends, but i don't know if i can call them that anymore." dan slams his hand into the counter, tears dripping down from his watering brown eyes and onto his pale cheeks that get soaked from tears all too often now.

 

" dan slams his hand into the counter, tears dripping down from his watering brown eyes and onto his pale cheeks that get soaked from tears all too often now  
dan pulls at the rubber band around his wrist, it hitting his once pale skin with a harsh snap with enough force to make dan hiss. his wrist is raw and red from the amount of times he pulled it, bruises forming from where he hit it the hardest. a sob catches in his throat, making him shake his head at him in his mirror, before he walks back out, tears welling in his eyes, an all too familiar feeling nowadays. his tie to being happy is gone, his little ball of sunshine not with him anymore.

the darkness that use to choke him, that would push away the happy thoughts and poison his brain with bad ones, is back worse than ever before.

"goodness sakes dan, you're pathetic." dan shakes his head violently at the stranger in the mirror, ashamed of what he has become. he is practically skin and bones, and his eyes are devoid of most emotion except sadness. dan gets sick of people asking if he is okay, because it is fairly clear that he is the exact opposite of okay.

two words pass his dry and cracked lips as he stares at himself, no, the monster in the mirror.

"i know."

§

since dan left phil, he has spiraled farther and farther down into depression, his old anxiety issues coming back after years of being little to none due to the fact he had his ball of sunshine. his happy little phil, his best friend, his roommate, his buddy, his crutch, his medication, his savior. dan's hoodie cuffs are all frayed and dirty from where he wraps his hands in them to make sweater paws or cover his face or wipe away the snot dripping out of his noise as he lets out his gut wrenching sobs.

dan has a small flat now, he let phil keep the old one. dan's apartment is cold and simple, and has no sweet memories, while the other one is full of memories, good and bad, but mostly good. the furniture or walls or doors have no meaning anymore, for dan lost everything when he lost his bed friend. sometimes, when dan is making noise at night, he catches himself trying to be quiet, thinking phil is still on the other side of the wall. he also catches himself playing phil's theme on the piano sometimes when he is zoning out. he still remembers when he played it to phil one time on a liveshow.

 

that was one of the good memories, the ones that make dan regret what he did. he remembers too many good memories to forget about phil, the time they shared together was the best years of his life. but the bad memories are still there though, pulling at his brain, trying to get him to break down. in the end, the good memories won.

late february, 2016

"i'm home!" dan proclaims, dropping his bags onto the living room floor. he got home later than expected, there was a traffic jam on the way back from his family's house. phil would of said a baby was being born, dan would of said someone got murdered.

a head of black hair shoots up from a laptop, before crossing the room in a flash. dan feels arms wrap around his torso and a head against his as they stand their, hugging. dan missed his best friend a whole awful lot, they very rarely don't see each other in two weeks, and when they meet again, a rare smile appears dan's face.

"i missed you, danny."

"i missed you more, philie."

dan misses feeling the heat of arms around his, or a head next or his, or his knee against the person that knows him best. he misses the silly nicknames they would give each other and the four hour long skype calls they would have if they weren't with each other. he remembers the anticipation and anxiety coursing through his body as the first skype call he made to phil rang, and how dan was afriad phil wouldn't answer. he nearly blocked phil on all social medias when he didn't answer the first time. dan sometimes wishes he did, but then he remembers how special phil is and feels guilty for ever thinking that. and when dan feels guilty, he pulls the rubber band even harder than usual, multiple times, closing his eyes and hearing the sound of the rubber band hit his wrist.

dan coughs slightly as he looks through his pantry, hoping for some maltesers or something to eat, even a bloody crumpet would be good right now. he finds a box of old maltesers, and goes to open it when he finds it already open and no maltesers in it, but instead a letter and photographs.

danny,

you told me yesterday you were leaving, we both know the details, no need to hurt myself again by going through that again. you're here to get the last of your things. don't worry, i'm not going to interact with you, but you already know that. i am writing this as you are in your room packing up your things. tears are dripping down my face as i write this.

dan notices the note is crumpled.

you just came into my room, not looking at me. are you not looking at me because of anger or regret? god, dan, why can't you just look at me? i want to see your brown eyes up close in person one last time, please.

you threw your sheets at me, telling me to take the effing sheets, that they belonged to an idiot. i guess i don't need to go get a new pair of sheets after all. these sheets smell like you. i hope the smell never fades.

in the two minutes before you told me yesterday, you looked at me twenty three times. if you didn't tell me anything, i was about to give you a bigger hug then i did when we first met. i really care about you danny, but you don't care about me anymore. it's fine, i've gotten use to hate. haters gonna hate, right? not the time? sorry.

dan almost smiles for first time in forever, and almost laughs at phil being himself, silly and innocent. but he catches himself before he does, remembering why he left his sun in the first place.

anyways, you're probably leaving soon, so i better finish up and put the photographs in.

don't forget me, daniel james howell, because i for as sure won't forget you.

your (least) favorite angel bean,  
phil

"how would i ever forget you. i can't, you're were too important to me." dan says, looking through the photographs. they're silly polaroids they took, screenshots of them in videos, and just random photos they took together. one stays in the box for a moment, and dan pulls it out and smiles slightly as he realizes it's a picture of phil carrying dan through the flat one day during a small party. pj took it, you can see chris and his hand's intertwined in a mirror in the background of the photo. at the old flat, that picture was taped above the webcam in the gaming room.

the trash can clicks open as his foot hits it, but he pauses with the box, and sets it down on the counter instead. just because dan should move on, doesn't mean he will.

dan wants to finally move on, but he can't because he cares so much still.

§

the sunlight streams in the windows, hitting dan in the face as he sits on his bed with his computer, head in his hands. his plain black sheets are wrapped around him, and teardrops fall onto them as time passes. the light from the window is almost iridescent, the myriad of ways to see that color, and it appears differently from every angle.

in a way, people are like iridescent human-shaped blobs, each one is seen differently in another person's eyes, or their mind. dan used that analogy around phil a few times, and phil loved it. somewhere in the box hidden in dan's closet, there's a silver bracelet with the word iridescent carved into it. phil gave him it when dan hit a million subscribers, along with a shower of compliments for days on end.

dan still misses him.

but, it's not surprising to anyone, if you knew how strong the bond was between the two. it was close, it was intimate, it was what kept dan together. yet, nothing gold can stay. people drift apart, people loose feelings, people grow up. dan doesn't get change. he hates it.

the photographs have haunted dan since he found them last week, even though they're luring on the white counter of his kitchen, because it hurts dan too much to decide what to do with them. in the past nine days, he has found nine more letters and notes to him from the one person that was and truly his.

he found the first one taped to the back of his undertale poster.

danny,

do you remember when we first saw each other in the real life? we weren't stuck watching each other through cracked screens and cheap webcams. when we had the house to ourselves and it was truly our weekend?

do you remember how we got stuck outside in the rain and by the time we finally got it, you were shaking so bad i thought you were having a seizure? you stole my clothes i gave you to put on, more specifically, you stole my favorite pair of black skinny jeans, the ones i always wore. i still haven't got them back, but i am not complaining, you don't look bad in them.

do you remember when it stormed really bad that one night in manchester and you ran into my room? you cried a long time that night. the thunder scared you. i told you the thunder wouldn't hurt you, as long as i was in your life. i hope you get rid of your fear of thunderstorms soon, for i won't be in your life, considering what you said yesterday.

do you remember you freaking out before we posted the first pinof, and i just held you to my chest?

do you remember when we went to japan, and we made a fort in the hotel room, and thought we were kings of the world? the smile on your face was so big then, i loved it.

do you remember how i always say things before i think, and you find it hilarious? you crinkle your eyes and your mouth goes into a smile, and you turn to me, giggling through your closed lips and moving your head until i get it.

anyways, time to go on to the next letter.

phil

he found the next on in the pocket of that hoodie he stole from phil while they were watching anime one time.

danny,

remember how proud you use to get of me when i did something good in a game? you use to reach over and squeeze my arm or shoulder.

remember when pj and chris finally revealed their relationship to us and we exchanged looks? they knew we thought we got them together, but they've been together all along. sneaky little sh- sorry, i mean people they are.

remember when i carried you through their apartment? you freaked out and thought i was going to drop you, and became a blubbering mess, and we snuck out of the party and went home. you remained a blubbering mess for a few hours, and went to bed without saying anything. by two in the morning, you came rushing into my room, your eyes red and raw from the tears, and you just rushed into my arms, sobbing into my shoulder for a good while. you made yourself sick from all that crying. i hate watching you cry.

remember when you chased me around our flat because i stole your cereal again? i fell and hit my head on the floor, and you felt really bad. you couldn't stop apologizing, but i was fine. at one point, i removed your hands from your eyes and held them down by your sides, before pulling you close so you were practically on top of me. you stopped crying and looked at me, before i started reciting your first video and you quit crying, and instead tried to leave the room and i started laughing so hard i cried because of your reaction. later that day, you ran you behind me when i was in the kitchen and pinned me to the kitchen floor while playing my first video, making comments about my accent the whole time, and when i tried to close my eyes you poked me in the side, so i opened them again.

remember when we were arguing over tabitha's baby name, after we finished recording the episode when we found out she was pregnant? you couldn't stop suggesting the words that make me cringe for some unknown reason, until i chased you around until i cornered you in your room. i quickly grabbed your straightener, hiding it in my room so you went a whole week without straightening it, which drove you insane. by day seven, you snuck into my room as i was in my computer and attempted to bug me into telling you.

remember when you stuffed about thirty ice cubes in my clothes for revenge because i stole your straightener, and made me sit there until it melted, or you were going to delete my entire skyrim game? i got so flustered and you found it so hilarious.

anyways, time for the next letter.

phil

he found the next one taped to the inside of his phone case.

danny,

remember when we watched all of death note in one day and part of a night? when we finished, we just stay there for a little bit. then, you fell asleep on me. i ran my fingers through your hair, our hands intertwined and my thumb traced light circles on the back of yours. i picked you up and carried you to bed, and you opened your eyes ever so slightly and muttered a soft "what" as you curled into my chest. i laid you down and you curled your hands into tiny balls as i turned off the light. i was about to turn away when you reached over and grabbed me by the back of my shirt, yanking it so i fell into bed. you mumbled a soft "stay" as you wrapped your arms around my torso and laid your head in the crook of my neck. we laid there for a while before we fell asleep.

remember when we played some horror game and you scared me at the end of the video? i got really flustered after we stopped recording because you really scared me, along with the game. my hands were shaking really bad and you looked over and saw my lip quivering. i remember how you pulled me over to the couch and i laid down on it, curling into a ball and shaking really bad. you pulled me into your lap and pulled me close to your chest and whispered an apology and how it was going to be okay.

remember how we used to race across the hallway, and you'd usually let me win? but, if we were teasing each other when we did, you would pin me to the wall so you'd get a head start. i remember that one time when i tried to let you win but you dragged me across the finish line.

remember whenever i tried to cook something fancy you always would take over because we both knew i would burn down everything? we laughed and giggled.

i am going to miss you.

a lot

phil

dan found the fourth letter folded neatly into one of the pair of jeans he stole from phil.

danny,

you told me today you were leaving tomorrow, forever. said you got a new place, and i could keep this one. you just told me, and you just left. you said you were coming back tomorrow to get your stuff. i am a mess, a complete mess. i feel like i am drowning.

why are you leaving? i still can't comprehend this is happening.

chris and p.j. just called me, saying they are coming over. apparently, you called them and told them what you told me, and you said i was at my place. dan, in a matter of minutes, it is already my place, not our place.

my birthday will never be happy again, just bitter reminders that you left me. i can't talk to many people about it either. you said you weren't going to upload again, so i am somehow going to explain that without giving away anything. the fans can't know the details, for they'll murder you the moment anyone sees you. then again, pj and chris probably will be at the head of the group, maybe even the rest of youtubers we associate.

apparently, you also told every youtuber we record with about it too, so they are all pretty mad at you too. mad is an understatement. louise is screaming into the phone as she talks to zoey, apparently. i am getting so many calls and messages from ou- my friends it is unbelievable, but you are probably getting more. they are probably hate, and people yelling at you, but they are at least something.

seeing all these youtubers you typically associate with good feelings be mad is sort of scary. but it's too hard to make out how mad they are through these tears. i can't see very well. good thing i have my glasses on, not my contacts, for i might pass out any second because my head is pounding so hard and i can't breathe.

looks like pj and chris are here.

phil

dan found the fifth letter inside of his old wallet, sandwiched between photos of the duo.

dan,

pj and chris are asleep in the living room, but they are so mad at you. when i explained exactly what happened, which took a while and a lot of tears, pj nearly punched a hole in the wall, so chris had to calm him down. i cried the whole time they were here, and i am still crying. they tried to console me, but only one person can console me.

you, but you are the one who dealt the damage.

i freaked them out when they got here, for i was lying on the floor of your bedroom, still were you left me, crying and sobbing as i clutched the hem of your hoodie i have on. the first letter was in my hand, and my phone was in the other, showing my hundreds of attempts to call you, to try to change your mind, to be okay.

you denied every single call, then proceeded to block me.

now, i'm lying in my bed, too tired to cry now. everything hurts. it feels like my limbs are weighed down with your awful words. did you know if you cry a lot and really hard, you might get sick? i had to find that out the hard way. my stomach hurts even more now.

are you ever going to talk to me again?

whenever you find these letters, even if it is in five hours, or fifteen years, please call me, text me, email me, tweet me, please do something. i need you. i will probably be mad, but i will be happy you came back. i won't change my ways of being contacted or the locks in hope of you coming back, or just saying hi. please dan. please.

dan felt extremely guilty reading that letter, but decided to reread the rest first before making any hasty decisions. he read the sixth one, the one he found in the case of sims four.

danny,

the human mind in an incredible thing. it makes right and wrong decisions in such a small place, life changing decisions.

i am writing to you for the sixth time, sitting down as pj and chris attempt to go buy a large enough cereal box for all of us. they're such a cute couple, they remind me of us sometimes. but there is no us anymore, is there, just two bodies that drifted away from each other, out of orbit and out of sync.

i can't write much, i am so tired, even though i got sleep last night. pj and chris are leaving after we eat, and you're coming by one final time today.

phil

dan read the seventh one, this time only a note. he found this one in his old camera.

danny,

pj and chris are about to leave. they don't want to, though. in fact, they extremely want to cave your face in, but that's not necessary.

danny boy, it's best for you not to step outside again, for if any of our friends or fellow youtubers see you, you'll probably end up in the hospital.

the catch is, you didn't just hurt me. you hurt all of us.

i know i expressed earlier that i would love to talk to you again, but thinking about it, don't contact me again. i don't want to see your face again. you've already decided our life together is over, no need to make it hold on for longer.

get out of my thoughts already, now that all my thoughts of you are sickening and twisted.

daniel james howell, you ruined me.

they, being pj and chris, were the most affected, next to me.

dan read the eighth one, also just a note. he found this one in his computer case.

danny,

i don't know whether or say anything to you when you come by or not. i don't know which one is best.

phil

dan found the final note in his special box, the one that contained the paper from the first pinof.

danny,

this is my final goodbye. i wrote you a letter and gathered photographs together and put it in a box of your favorite candy. i hope you didn't throw it out. dan, i love you, i'll never forget you, please don't forget about me. please, when you read this letter, just send me one text or just a short call, one final goodbye. we don't ever have to speak past that.

i love you,

philie

dan's breathing starts to get shaky as he fumbles for his phone, unlocking it as the reasons he left flash through his mind. his thumbs fumble over one another as they search for the twitter icon in his mess of a phone.

he hasn't been on in forever, but with what happened with the girl, he's fairly certain the internet went wild with a picture of dan, proving he's not dead. they all still hate him for what he did to phil, but that's a given.

dan's mind races as he tries to compose a new tweet, to try to show he's not entirely a waste of space. but, he quickly spits out a series of tweets, trying to make sense of his fast typing.

i'm not dead.

but i'm still not coming back to internet.

i wouldn't miss me if i were you.

this is why everyone is ashamed of me. don't worry i am ashamed of myself too.

i hope you're all strong because i can't be here.

goodbye again people of the internet. don't show me any respect, i don't deserve it.

with each tweet he invites more ridicule of himself, and he knows it. with speed that would of let him pass most people in a race with ease, he logs onto his personal youtube twitter account. it's only other youtubers personal accounts, his actual personal one was deleted long ago due to constant questions from his family when he disappeared.

don't ask me questions.

louise: at this rate, we'll do whatever the hell we want, daniel

zoe: i can't even believe you

connor: just because you act all regretful doesn't mean you're innocent

troye: i can't either, zoe

tyler: nothing makes it okay

chris: you're dead to us

pj: i never knew someone could be so selfish until i met you

joey & daniel: why did you tweet in the first place

joe: shut up dan

marcus: why

shane: what's the point in coming back

hannah: go away

felix: just go away dan, it's best for everyone

marzia: i have no words for you

dan screams, banging his fists onto his thighs in anger, wet anger. the worst type of anger, your voice is shaky and tears fall from your eyes with no pattern at all. he screams until his voice is raw, until his throat hurts more than the rest of him.

"i am... not.... damaged.... i am... not.... broken...." he manages to squeeze out of his tight and raw throat, before sons come ripping out again. maybe he is broken, but dan wouldn't come to terms with that, he couldn't stand the fact of him being like he use to be, but this time worse.

dan doesn't want to remember when they first met, it makes him feel even more heavy with guilt, but he can't forget it, either.

october 19, 2009

dan was very nervous, to say the least. he was having second thoughts. the train ride didn't help his thoughts at all, they just amplified them by infinity. but he couldn't turn back now, the train was pulling up to the station, the minutes between him and phil turning into seconds, slowly ticking into no time at all.

the doors open with a chime, sending shivers down dan's spine as he grabs his stuff and rushes out the door. if he goes too fast he'll stand out, but if he goes too slow he will also stand out. the crowd is his best bet. he was shaking quite badly, to the point where he was afraid he might drop his bag. that wouldn't be a good thing to do, not at all.

the outside air hits him, making him feel honored to breathe non stale air for the first time in a little over four hours. there's no smell of way too much body spray, instead, there's just a mixture of smells, so many, it's so unique, just like phil.

dan scans his worried eyes over the platform with great speed, running each face through his mind, each not fitting the criteria for his phil, his first friend in a long time.

then, he sees it.

a pair of bright blue eyes starring at him from not too far down the train platform, their eyes widening as they meet dan's. the next moments pass by in a blur, both of them are so excited. bags are dropped, words are cut off by a bone crushing hug within seconds. the two boys are no longer black and white, they're just a muddled mess of monotone colors.

"dan."

"phil."

if it was possible to make yourself forget something with just a tip of a hat, dan would. he would forget everything, be free, be able to fly, instead of being weighed down by guilt and pity. his wings, made of paper words, were set on fire by his actions.

phil would laugh at the pun if he was here, but he's not.

and won't ever be.


	2. bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was in hiatus for about eight months during a point in my life. i tried to blend my new writing style with my old, but it didn't always flow the best. the next ones are 100% my new writing.

dan hurts, he really does. lately, it's been worse, his brain weighing him down like a concrete prom queen crown. phil's words are really getting to him, they're causing a voice in the back of his that keeps asking him what would of happened if he didn't leave. as much as he tries to ignore the thoughts, he can't help but wonder what could of happened if he stayed. yet, he makes no moves on his thoughts, just pushes them to the back. it's too late to regret everything now. a bit of regret he expected when he saw the first letter, he knew that.

regret has always been dan's downfall, but it isn't going to be this time. he made a choice, and he's determined to stand by it.

"the irony of feeling small when i am over six feet tall."

the line plays softly through the earbuds shoved in the boy's ears, making him move his every so slightly to nod. he is usually one of the biggest people in any room, but he still feels like he's being choked, fading into the background, sinking below everyone else. his words get caught in his throat, senses on override mode as he tries to go back home as fast as he can.

dan drops the earbuds onto the kitchen counter, setting his phone down as he goes to rummage through the cupboard. his fingertips graze against the wood inside, searching for something to quiet his thoughts. his breathe is ever so elevated, heart pounding like breaking glass in his ears. as he fails to find any supply of medication that will help his situation, his phone rings across the room, making him flinch at the suddenness.

incoming call from mum

dan sighs, socks gliding across the kitchen floor as he drags himself over to phone. he feels cold suddenly, like everything that was left in him was taken away.

"mum?" he answers the phone softly, hand rubbing the back of his neck with anxiety. it's not like his mum will yell at him, he just gets anxious over silly things, he overthinks a lot. it sends his brain into overdrive mode until he crashes and burns, usually into tears.

"daniel! how's everything?" dan knows what his mom truly wants to ask, it's what everyone to ask, the girl in the shop, the fans, even some of his old friends. the question is never asked, but he knows what everyone thinks, he knows what they dwell on.

what happened with phil?

and goddamn, at points, dan just wishes someone would ask already, because quite frankly, he doesn't even know sometimes. no one understands his trail of thinking, not even his mother. she doesn't pick a side directly though, his family never does, they care for dan, and they cared about phil. so when everything happened, they picked no side, they stood in the middle and carried on.

dan should of carried as well, but he dwelled on the fact. phil did from what it sounds like, he's at ten million now. dan is now at two million, everyone else left or got deleted. there was a brief announcement by phil long ago with his friends at convention, shortly after everything happened. they never went into detail about the truth, just said dan moved out and moved on, that he hurt people a lot emotionally, and he no longer is in touch with anyone, and won't be on social media again. phil actually was caught crying midway through and had to be consoled by tyler, so the majority of fans really think dan did something horrible, because phil is like their child, and seeing him cry, broke their hearts.

"g-good, mum. everything is good," dan whispers, both of them knowing that is a huge lie. dan isn't fine, the bags, the skinniness, the paleness, it's all quite evident of him not being fine.

"just wanted to tell you that your cousin had their baby- it's a healthy baby girl," dan smiles at the thought of little kids, he always has. sure, he may not want them himself, but he enjoys others. he loves darcy- even if his mom hates him. he loves children's smiles and laughs, it clears his brain, makes him happy.

"name?" dan asks quietly, the storm in his head already coming back. a panacea will have to a strong one at that to actually calm dan's head. then again, you can't save everything, not if there's nothing left to save.

"juniper howell. anyways, i need to go help them. just wanted to tell you. love you daniel," his mother hangs up softly, knowing dan doesn't respond back. he sets the phone back down, placing his hands on his head as it throbs, his fingers rummaging through the cabinet to find some pain relievers.

across the house, the photographs sit on his bed, various papers by them, tear stains evident on the soft paper. the letters are next to his bed, each been read countless times since they were found.

☁︎

"this is the most fun i've ever had."

it's everywhere, dan keeps thinking it. he feels the ghost touches of phil's lips, how they connected. he remembers phil's soft touch on his waist, the feeling of his hands on his, on his cheeks, on his waist, on his elbows, on his everything.

dan can feel it all. it haunts him even more today, he can remember everything. the weight of guilt has tripled in dan since he found the first letter, pulling at his soul. it pulls at his very well being, and he hates it. he can't feel anymore, he can only remember.

is this what regret feels like?

it can't be regret, dan doesn't regret what he did. dan won't accept it's regret, he knows it isn't. he shouldn't be regretting, he knows what he did and why, only he understands. he isn't going to make that mistake of messing up, he's standing his ground.

he won't let pj and chris call him broken anymore. he's more than that, dan knows he is. he's dan howell.

and he doesn't want to think about he feels like he's falling down a canyon of memories right now.

not ever.

dan coughs, pulling his hoodie, the one with horns, closer to him, covering half of his face as he sits, looking up at the cracks in the ceiling. to think something simple, like a small object hitting it, could result in all these intricate cracks and patterns formed, it's astonishing to him.

he relates it to him, the first letter was his small object, and the beginning cracks the other letters. yet instead of taking the time of years to develop, it developed in a matter of two weeks. the feelings he doesn't know how to describe, and doesn't want to, because that makes them real. if he doesn't admit it, it won't be real.

"if home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked."

new song, new day. another line stuck in his head, spinning like a dreidel on a sheet of paper, something of important significance spinning on something fragile. another line that every time him, the same thoughts would echo in his mind.

a name, rather.

dan coughs again, cursing the bloody weather again, it's just like everyone else, trying to kill him. the world hates him, he's really convinced it does at this point. his hands shake as he reaches for the phone, unlocking it, scrolling through a self care tag on tumblr. something must describe what he's feeling.

but to no surprise, nothing does. nothing describes what he feels, nothing. it only makes it pull at him more, pulling unwanted thoughts to the front line in the war of second thoughts in his mind.

stardust dances in his mind again, a soft sneeze making him jerk his head forehead, hands touching his face lightly. a cold, just what he needs. his face looks flushed, freckles standing out against his cheeks, eyelids fluttering. he carefully makes his way towards the kitchen, socks sliding on linoleum floor as he grabs a hand rag, wetting it slightly.

he goes to his bedroom this time, pulling the blinds shut tight, collapsing onto the bed. he puts his phone face down on the nightstand, laptop abandoned in the other room. he presses the rag against his forehead, closing his eyes.

but his brain doesn't sleep.

☁︎

dan's curls press against the white pillow in a contrast, his head tilted towards the hotel window, lips slightly open. he feels the bed dip once, fingertips touching his back where his shirt has risen up. they connect the freckles dotting his back, drawing constellations almost.

"found the little dipper yet?" dan mutters jokingly, feeling phil laugh quietly next to him.

"no. i found the center of the universe, although." phil talks back softly, leaning forward and kissing dan's cheek. dan laughs, rolling onto his stomach, phil's fingertips moving to his hips. there's a tiny gap where his sweatpants stand up from his hipbones, a single freckle poking out from under the waistband.

"more like a black hole, in my case."

"not really- i like to think you grew and changed. you started off as a dwarf planet, you wanted to be apart of the rest, but didn't believe in yourself, you still don't sometimes. but you got past that, you moved on to become earth, holding all these intricate stories and jokes inside. for a bit, you turned into a gas giant, you weren't really understood, but you were intriguing, and you liked to be different, be distinguished from everyone else. we know what i mean. but you went back to earth, and changed into the sun."

"if anyone is the sun, it's you."

"sun or not, you're the center of my whole world."

"you're the center of my whole universe, lester."

"don't steal my compliments, love." dan just laughs, shaking his head once as phil kisses his nose.

•

phil's eyes glanced out the car window, watching the plain scenery fly by in a flash. he smiles, seeing a family pulled over at a pit stop, two or three little kids smiling and playing at the picnic tables like he and martyn use to. he feels his thighs move slightly, glancing down.

eyelids flutter, a pair of tired browns staring up at him from his lap. his fingers are wrapped in their curls, the other stretching to where their lap is from how they're laying, grabbing their left hand.

"hey sleepyhead." phil talks softly, pressing a kiss to dan's forehead. "you sleep well?"

"sleep better once we get to the hotel." dan mutters, sitting up, leaning into phil's side. he lays his head on the boy's shoulder, phil smiling as he squeezes the hand in his.

"phil- you were supposed to tell us where the last gas station was! not be cute with your fiancé- again!"

phil just laughs at his family, dan smiling and burying his head into phil's neck.

•

dan groans, pressing his hands over his forehead, the wet rag pressing against his shaking fingers. his eyes rake over the plaster ceiling, settling on a tiny speck of purple paint near the light. he doesn't know how it got there, or how he got where he is. he shouldn't be like this- he shouldn't be keeping his mind on the past.

he wants sleep- this isn't sleep. this is his heart mixing up his thoughts, bringing up old memories. he swallows once, twice, pressing his hands over his face as he sits up. dan shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. they're red rimmed and raw, he doesn't want to think he was crying in his sleep, despite the dampness in his pillow. it wasn't from the rag, he knows that. but he doesn't want to think it's from his eyes.

not tears, that's a sign of regret. dan just is having a rough few weeks, the letter tipped him over the edge. that's what he tells himself as he looks in the mirror, splashing his face with the water from the sink. his thumb runs over the switch for the tap, switching it back off. he takes a step back, letting his eyes wander.

a snap of the rubber band breaks him back to reality, his stomach turning and churning. his head pounds, tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. he takes a step towards the toilet, but steps back. throwing up is admitting he's upset, which he's definitely not. he's okay- just a bit of a cold.

dan almost laughs, his brain saying he has morning sickness for a second. but it's not morning and he's not pregnant. he knows that much. there is something growing inside of him, this feeling that makes him so nostalgic, but it's not a baby.

dan just tucks a strand of hair back behind his ear and heads to the kitchen. he slipped his phone in the waistband of his pants, cold metal pressing against his skin. there's a bruise from where he fell trying to grab one of the notes phil left, slowly fading. his bottom lip sticks out, eyes looking vulnerable. his eyelashes are decorated with tiny droplets, and it's not the water from the sink.

the fridge door pops open as he pulls, grabbing a cupcake that was sitting in the fridge. it's crude, the result of him trying to make on at two in the morning today. but it's still a cupcake, and dan's sure as hell going to enjoy it.

he takes it delicately in his fingers, pressing the fridge door open with the side of his hip. the icing moves as he presses a candle into it, the cupcake resting carefully on a paper towel on the table. he runs his pointer figure over the rough texture of the match box, before taking one out.

he lights it carefully, pressing it to the top of the blue candle. it catches a light; all lights in the kitchen off, the hallway light the only visible light. he leans over; letting the shadow of the flame flicker over his face, lighting up the tear stains on his cheeks.

and the ones coming out of his eyes, for he misses the company. not a particular person in mind, he just wants someone, needs someone. nobody should spend this day alone.

"happy birthday, me." he speaks softly, closing his eyes and getting to blow on the candle. a few wishes come to mind, but one stands out in particular, just because he needs closure. he speaks it softly, barely leaving his quivering lips.

"be able to say sorry to phil, no strings attached. say sorry- so i can move on."

he doesn't want to think about the implications of that wish, he just wants to say it aloud. seeing phil, and just telling him sorry, just once, he'd be able to move on. in person though, is what scares him. he needs to talk to phil- but in person, and not arranged.

so maybe that's why he made a silent note in his mind to see if he's free october 19, he needs to head to a certain station. for closure, he tells himself, but his heart lingers too long when he thinks of a certain boy with black hair and blue eyes. but dan just takes a breathe, pulling the candle back out of the cupcake, careful not to touch the dripping wax. he lays it down, using the side of his thumb to take off the wrapper. the waxy coating and crumbs rub against his thumb, his fingernail pressing into it once as he crumples it up.

he eats it quietly, nose twitching at the faint smell of the flame from the candle every so often. the corner of his eyes are red and swollen, eyes not wet, but not dry. his cheeks are tinted red from crying, but still pale. his hand shakes every so often, yet ignores it every time he does, focusing on the cupcake. his eyes are unfocused on the kitchen table. you can hear as his fingertips scratch against it every so often, the flat completely void of all noise, aside from the occasional swallow from dan. the silence makes his head feel swollen, like a hot air ballon, or maybe that's just the sickness. his eyes are glazed over, lost in another world.

his hand pulls at the shirt collar around his neck as he begins to feel like he's choking, throwing the rest of the cupcake in the bin. he stands over the sink, hands on either side.

it wasn't his stomach that fell into the sink that day, it was his tears.

and soon enough, he fell too, hitting the floor with a defeated sigh.

•

he coughed, chest heaving as his head tilted forwards his bedside table. he sighs, seeing the empty pain reliever bottle next to him, and then right light emitting from his phone.

the metal is cold to the touch as he grabs it, typing in his passcode slowly, rubbing his eyes to try to get them to focus.

happy late birthday.  
p.l.

dan doesn't care about the churning of his stomach anymore, he just feels cold. his head suddenly feels too big for his shoulders, jaw too loose. he sways forward for a second, eyes wide. 

he shouldn't of got this- he knew letting sick him unblock phil's number was a bad idea. but he can't hit block again- he can't bring himself to do it.

i still have the sheets- you know? no one knows- they thought i threw them out. i wrap your comforter around me sometimes, just letting my brain do whatever it wants. it calms me- but the memories of you scare me.  
p.l.

with that, dan chucks his phone on the end of the bed, running to the bathroom. a few minutes later, he looks at himself in the mirror as he washes his face, seeing the dark circles under his eyes.

for a second, his eyes flicker to a small drawer, knowing there's two tickets in there, same day, but years apart. one from 2009, one for a few months. he wants to hold it, but he's afraid he'll rip it. hell, he's afraid he'll rip himself.

the noise of water running through the pipes startles him, making him jump. dan takes a deep breath, slipping back into his bed and pulling the comforter around him, squeezing his eyes shut.

he lips move as he mutters some phrase, which his body relaxes at the sound of. but as he says it, his brain thinks of blue eyes looking at him as they say it. he thinks of phil, he thinks of his hands on his waist.

he thinks of everything, but pushes it away finally as his head hits the pillow.

•

"excuse me, sir, can you grab me that box? my mum asked me to come grab it- but i can't reach it." dan turns to see a girl standing next to him, her blonde hair pushed by a silver glittery headband.

"sure, here you go." dan grabs the box effortlessly, passing it down to the little  
hands next to him. she looks no more than eight years old.

"thank you, sir. you're really tall, by the way." dan smiles, but that's when he realizes. he knows this girl, he knows her well.

"darcy, come on!" he hears an all too familiar voice call from aisle next to him, one he's still accustomed to associating with hugs and embarrassing moments.

he quickly mutters a goodbye to the girl, forgetting his shopping trip and turning behind a display case.

"sorry, mum, was thanking the nice man who helped me."

"darcy, there's no one on this aisle anymore. come on, love, we have to go help phil make cookies for his mum." louise grabs her daughter's hand slightly, smiling.

dan lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, walking out the store doors quickly. the collar of his jacket scratched against his chin as he pulls it up, shoving his hands in his pockets and tilting his head down.

louise was so close, and if darcy mentions anything, she'll know. if darcy mentions anything around phil- it's going to be disastrous.

dan just sighs again and hops in the nearest taxi.

•

he was finally not sick, after a week. he had groceries delivered two days ago so he didn't have to go there again, he hasn't heard anything from anyone.

dan walks quietly across him room, grabbing a book tucked into one of his drawers. he runs his thumb over the cover, flipping it open. a few picture stick out from the cover sleeve, he sets them on the bed before putting the book back quietly.

they're old; wrinkles are evident from people looking at them. if he squints his eyes enough, he can even see a few fingertips in the ink.

"dan- stop shaking it! you're not suppose to shake it!"

"but it makes it more impressive!"

dan smiles for a moment, looking at that photo from thei- well, now phil's- instant camera. they loved that thing, there was a drawer they had just pull of the pictures.

his chest expands more than it has in a while, eyes closed. he's able to breathe, able to temporarily push away that feeling gnawing at his stomach. a few more months and this will be over, he'll have closure- he'll get rid of this feeling. a few weeks- maybe a couple of months worth of regret after the fact doesn't mean he should attempt to fix all of this.

just means he needs to address a problem- just like his mum taught him. take a breath, take a step back, evaluate the problem, make your decision.

she never did mention about making the wrong decision- or making the right decision and feeling guilty.

"hey mum?" dan talks quietly into the phone he has pressed to his cheek, laying on his stomach in the bed. the pictures are in the hand on the arm that isn't propping him up on the messy bed.

"what'd you need dan?" dan's mom has a cheerful tone to her voice, he can almost see her smiling as she carries on with whatever she was doing. multitasking- something dan was never good at.

"remember when i was young and you taught me problem solving and everything?"

"yeah- you kept saying staying up past your bedtime was a thoroughly evaluated decision. why, what about? something come up?"

"what happens if you make the wrong decision- but feel guilt later down the line?"

"well- you need to make sure you chose the right decision. sure, it's normal to feel some guilt- but to be overridden with it suddenly- that means something. something of you doesn't want to let go, or knows this isn't the right way. you thinking about how you dropped out again? because there's no reason to, you weren't-"

"not thinking about my uni days mom, but thanks for the advice."

"i'm always here for you dan, you know that right?"

"i know mum."

"i love you."

"i love you too."

perhaps dan was the most surprised when he returned affection to anyone, especially 'i love you'. the last time he said that- well, it was with a certain boy. but it's not now, it's to his mum over the phone and he's hanging up and trying not to cry.

he always followed his mum's advice- but now?

he's afraid it's true, that this was the wrong choice.

but he was always taught guilt was felt soon after the action- not all this time after. this can't be guilt, he can almost hear his old english teacher laughing at him for thinking this is guilt.

"incoming skype call from-"

"fuck off." dan reaches over, pressing the big red button quickly. he brought out his old laptop a few days ago, and his skype keeps getting notifications because his old phones realize he's online and want to 'talk'. the first call was pj, immediately followed by chris. this one? louise.

"dan come on i know you're there."

"you can't hide forever dan."

"i won't yell please."

"dan."

"i know you're reading these, and i know you helped darcy the other day."

"i had this idea you were such a horrible person after what happened, but after the way you treated darcy, the way you treated that dan, i can't think that anymore. dan- you're hurting- aren't you? darcy barely recognized you, she told me once we left phil's. she's worried for you, dan- i'm worried for you. i don't want to try to fix this, i just want to understand- to help you in the least."

"please answer my call- decline it, and i won't bother you anymore."

dan takes a breath, hands shaking as he blinks quickly. darcy- god, she came up to him because she knew who he was. emphasis on was. she could of gone to anyone else in the aisle, or grabbed the lower box from the display not even half an aisle away. she came to him, knowing he hurt phil.

kids- they never cease to amaze you.

and maybe adults never cease to amaze you as well, some more than others.

in this case, it was dan.

because he pressed accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these were moved over from my wattpad (audenss).


	3. confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the skype call + parallels with phil’s life now.

he looked the left as he heard the ringing tone switch off, a pop up telling him he's connecting. dan pressed his hand over his mouth, eyes glazed over as he begins to count the dents in the wall from where he's dropped various things.

"dan?" that voice, it makes his heart seem too small for his lungs, like a butterfly trapped inside a cocoon. he's scared, his heart is racing, he can feel it with his fingertips pressed on the pale skin under his collarbone. "dan-daniel. you have to answer me at some point. you're scared, aren't you?"

she's using her mother voice, dan hears the softer edge to it. he sees the way she leans forwards slightly, lifting her eyebrows a tiny bit higher. there's a soft smile on the left side of her face, and he assumes her fingers are twiddling with each other right out of view of the camera. louise had her habits, and that was definitely one of them, she would fumble with her fingers until you made her laugh really hard again.

he turns back towards the camera, eyes catching on the small indicator that's it's on for a moment, shoulders shrugging as he rests his hands in his hands. he hears her sigh, move a tiny bit more on her bed. her phone was visible in the background, far from her reach, not capable of recording, which slightly reassured dan's nerves.

slightly.

"dan- why'd you answer suddenly, tweet, anything? you occasionally come online, but never answer, never say anything, why'd that change? it's not like you. and yes- i know, i don't know this you, only you do, but i know what you're like. something is troubling you, what is it?"

"phil's letters- i found them. i presume you know? he probably told everyone- he has a habit. i mean- i guess he use to at least. can't really say he does anymore- i don't know him anymore."

"no, dan- the letters is one thing he doesn't ever say a word about, never. i know there's something with phil's letters, sometimes when he gets upsets he manages to say something about letters while crying. he refuses to expand on it if we ask, only gets more upset. trust me, we've tried. pj especially, he tore apart the apartment while phil was doing an event once- found nothing."

"i just- it's every pure emotion that phil could express, and he didn't hold back. they're mad, upset, confused, hurt, just everything i didn't want to have on me. some of them, it's every memory that meant so much to us told from his side. it's things that i didn't even know he knew, it's so not phil that it hurts to read. because phil isn't upset- he's happy but he's hurting because it meant an end, a final fucking chapter."

"dan- you made him happy. he misses you."

"that's not what it sounds like from pj and chris."

"pj and chris are pj and chris, they don't have a filter. you guys were just growing back together when everything went down, and you leaving brought them close to phil. they're just really defensive about anything involving him- they don't like seeing him hurt. just like you did when phil received a lot of backlash for things."

"i don't know- louise. feel like i'm just feeling this way because i'm still not completely used to living entirely by myself. even when i was at uni and didn't live with phil, i was always over at his place. this is the first time i've really been on my own in my entire life."

"look, dan, i'm not going to tell you what to do. even though i want to, and that i have a deep feeling about what that feeling is, i won't tell you because it's not my place. you make your own decisions."

"i know, louise. i still can't entirely believe i'm doing this- especially after the bookstore with pj and chris-" dan starts to talk faster, leg bouncing in the corner of the camera.

"i heard about that. once phil saw the picture, he tried to- i shouldn't be telling you this. god, if anybody finds out. it's only liam and i that know, aside from the girls."

"if worse comes to worse- i'll go down. there's not much left of a reputation to ruin, anyways."

"dan-"

"mom!"

"louise- we can continue this another time- your girls need you."

"who says you'll answer again?"

"i will- i just- i need time to process this, louise. if i don't- you can do what you want. tell pj, tell chris, tell phil for all i care. i just- this is a lot."

louise doesn't say goodbye, she just hangs up. perhaps it was easier than saying goodbye to someone like him. saying goodbye pulls at your heart, it gives you a tiny piece of hope that makes you want to run and tell everyone. which was exactly what they didn't want, they wanted hushed whispers and secrets only shared in the comfort of their rooms over crappy cameras.

dan knows that more than anybody- not saying goodbye.

"damnit phil."

because phil got him into this mess, because phil was the reason his carefully built house of a new life has more and people staring through the window with each passing day. the windows were falling apart, perhaps from the stones people kept throwing, perhaps from dan breaking them. the door was cracked open, people could peak inside, but not yet. only louise, but pj and chris probably weren't that far behind.

because damnit phil, you didn't need to write those letters. because he didn't have the right to- doing that. because it's a shitty thing- especially in response-

to an even shittier thing that dan did.

"god- fuck- i'm not doing this."

because everything was always pinned on phil. everything- every single wish and dream dan has ever had.

he can't stop thinking about what he decided.  a trip to that particular station on a certain day to bring closure. it seems like it is coming faster and faster, he's losing weeks at a time to his bed and just crying. it's june thirtieth now. he decided that over two weeks ago. he stayed in his house for over a week after the supermarket incident.

he also can't stop thinking about that fucking fiancé dream.

because it was what they almost were, it was everything dan dreamed of at night when he'd wrap his fingers through phil's hair as he slept. it was on his mind every holiday, a simple four words he wanted to roll off his tongue. but they never did, never rolled off phil's either.

except for that day.

"i was supposed to marry you."

no one was going to lie, there were things that were bound to happen, and that was one of them. it wasn't spoken about much between the two, because they just knew it was a definite result at some point in the future.

perhaps this story became an allegory after some point, a note that just because one is capable of holding a relationship, doesn't mean the other is. or perhaps, it is more of a simpler meaning, never trust someone so much. eventually, it will crash and burn and you won't get back the pieces of your heart you gave away so effortlessly to crossed fingers as they promised they wouldn't hurt you.

nothing is set in stone, though. dan for sure knew that, he threw the fame, the love, the future of cold wedding rings on shaking fingers, everything, for a reason he still isn't sure is a real reason.

he has one hundred and eleven days to compose himself, three months and nineteen days to carefully pick his fragile words and face the fact he's going to see phil. because the last time he saw phil, he was screaming, crying. he was an absolute mess, not the usual wet anger he experienced. if phil cried, dan knew it was bad.

because before that, dan only saw phil cry for three separate reasons, he would fail to keep himself composed every time. the first reason was if he heard a make-a-wish kid they met or were supposed to meet passed, or when they met a fan at a show, who's words heavily implied they were supposed to come with someone else, but that is no longer possible, because they too aren't here anymore. the second reason was more personal, more kept secret, it was back in their bad years, when dan didn't watch what he said, and didn't care who it hurt. the third time was the one that dan remembered the most, the reflections of dan's already wet face in phil's pooling eyes as they hugged, knowing dan had to leave soon. they were still young, still grapsing on to the tail end of the first time they met.

one hundred and eleven.

one hundred and eleven days for pining his hope on a series of intentions derived from his hopeful imagination in the silver lining of the night.

one hundred and eleven days until he had to see phil again.

phil.

phil is the one who did everything dan was originally on the pathway to doing, phil was the one who broke the internet once word got out about dan. phil was the one who became better acquaintances with some celebrities they've met while doing the radio, even with some of the ones that they've looked up to for years. phil was the one who became the forefront of a very prominent part of youtube that was left empty in the wake of dan's removal. phil was the one who rebuilt it all, became a figure for something better.

phil was the one always being praised now, and dan was in the past. there were phil fans who didn't even know who dan was, let alone that he used to be the prominent one.

phil's name was the one up in articles and awards, and dan was a footnote in his history, a chapter at most.

and all chapters must come to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a dan and phil instagram account that is full of little short stories (phanblurbs) and there’s over four hundred blurbs if you want more of my writing.


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